Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“Through here,” the servant murmurs. I expect him to lead me up the spiraling stairs…instead, he points down…down into a pit of darkness.
“He…he stays in the dungeon?” I ask, my voice coming out in a dry croak.
“The Dark Prince makes his home in darkness—as befits his mood,” is the servant’s cryptic reply. “You must descend the stairs until you reach the wooden door bound in silver. Push it open and you will find his chambers.”
“But…but what if it’s locked?” I squeak, my voice going high with fright.
The servant shakes his head.
“He has no need to lock his door.”
“What? Why not?” I demand.
He shrugs.
“Because no one dares to visit him. Even we servants keep our distance—the maids go in but once a day, when he’s out riding, to tidy his room and change his sheets. Other than that, he’s left strictly alone. He likes his privacy and punishes those who disturb it.”
Wonderful—and now I’m supposed to go bother him.
“But—” I begin.
The servant shakes his head.
“I shall remain here at the entrance to the Dark Prince’s rooms all night at the Queen’s behest. I am to let her know if you refuse to do your duty and lay with the prince. If you come out before morning, I’m to go and tell her at once.”
I see no pity in his eyes—only the mindless loyalty the Queen seems to inspire in her closest servants. I am not being given a choice—I must go. I must descend those black stairs alone and pray that the Dark Prince doesn’t choose to punish me for disturbing his privacy.
But even if he doesn’t punish me, he’s going to take me. Or maybe he’ll do both. I’ve heard of men who bed their wives roughly and then beat them after, just because they can. Will he do that to me? Will he hurt me?
It’s going to hurt one way or another, I tell myself grimly. The first time always hurts. Get over it and get down there before the servant reports you to the Queen!
Taking a deep breath, I duck into the tower entrance and begin descending the winding stairs. I have no idea how the Dark Prince will greet me, but I know I must give myself to him on pain of death.
Whether he wants me or not.
9
ELAINA
The stairs seem to go on forever, down and down into the darkness. There’s hardly any light and I have to feel my way, trailing my fingertips along the rough stone wall to my right to keep from stumbling.
It occurs to me to wonder—what if the servant steered me wrong? What if he brought me to the wrong place on purpose? Maybe the Queen has decided she wants to get rid of me. Maybe I’m descending to my doom. What if there’s a monster waiting for me at the bottom of these steps. Or simply a dungeon where I shall be locked away to starve? What if—?
And then I come to the bottom at last and see the silver-bound wooden door just as the servant described it. A pale blue witch-flame flickers beside it, casting an eerie glow over the entry to the Dark Prince’s rooms.
I’m not sure if I ought to knock or not. What if he denies me entry? Maybe I should just go in and offer myself to him immediately. The Queen seemed to think he would take me at once if I did that.
I push tentatively at the wooden door and find that it swings inward smoothly, without even a creak. Well, that’s something at least.
I peer around the door and see a vast chamber, bathed in shadows. The only light comes from another witch-flame, which casts its pale and sickly radiance over the enormous bed at the far end of the room.
I can see a large lump under the covers, which must be Prince Xaren. Quietly, I step into the room. The door swings shut behind me, though I haven’t touched it. It slides into place with a quiet click that sounds almost like a key turning in a lock.
Panic grips me, and I turn to try the handle, tugging futilely at it for a long moment but it doesn’t budge. It seems I’m locked in with the Dark Prince. What am I going to do?
What you came here to do in the first place, I tell myself sternly. Go offer yourself to him—get him to bed you. You must get pregnant with an heir!
Swallowing hard, I tiptoe towards the bed. My plan is to just slide into bed with him and then offer myself. After all, once I’m in bed, he can hardly kick me out…right?
I have no idea if that’s true or not but it’s the only plan I have. I walk silently over to the vast bed—I swear it’s big enough for four or five people—and slip off my robe and slippers.